My Hero
by Poetic.blue
Summary: What if Freddie saved Sam from the Taco truck instead of Carly? For TheWrtrInMe 's "What If" challenge. Rated K . Ship:Seddie R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Hola! **

**I am participating in a challenge about what if something different happened? Mine is: What if Freddie pushed Sam out of the way instead of Carly?**

**Because this is part of a challenge, there shall be voting! So please, if you think my story is awesome, go to ****TheWrtrInMe 's profile and vote in the poll! Voting closes Saturday at midnight, fyi.**

**Disclaimer: iCarly isn't mine, I just use it to speculate.**

**Without further ado….**

"This is ridiculous. No one's going to let me brush their teeth." The trio were all standing on a street corner, Carly in her pink bunny suit, and Sam munching on taco. Freddie was filming, but unfortunately, nothing was really happening. "Can we just go back inside?" Carly's face was turning as pink as her outfit.

"Sorry, kiddo, but you promised you'd take any bet. And any bet means _any _bet."Sam shrugged, spinning in a circle slowly. "No matter how stupid. Thems the rules."

Carly sighed, but said nothing else. A man in a dark blue suit walked by. "Would you like for me to brush your teeth? It's just a dollar." she struggled to smile.

The man ignored her, acting as if she had said nothing. "Hey!" she shouted after his retreating figure "You could at least say 'No thank you'!"

Sam laughed; Freddie leaned against the brick wall. "Two hours, and still nothing decent." he was getting tired of standing around. "Maybe we should just go back inside."

"No, we said four hours." As much as Carly didn't like being embarrassed like this, she wasn't one to break a promise.

"You could brush my teeth. You know, get the ball rolling." Sam made a circular motion with her arms, but because she was standing on the curb, slipped and fell into the street. Ungracefully, she landed smack on her butt. "Oww! Stupid curb." she pushed herself off the ground and began to brush herself off, still standing in the street. "I change my-" she was cut off by the sound of squealing tires.

"Sam!"

It all happened very fast. One second Sam was complaining, the next she was being pushed out of the way by Freddie. The truck missed her, but he wasn't so lucky. Carly screamed, as one does when one's best friend is hit by a speeding taco truck. She just screamed and screamed, while Sam looked down in disbelief at what he had done.

"Carly." she kept screaming. "Carly!" Sam stepped over Freddie, still lying in the street. "_Carly! _Shut up!" she shoved her phone at her friend. "Call 911." She fell to her knees next to him, taking his one good hand in hers. The arm was obviously broken, bent in a way that an arm should never be bent. "Freddie?" his head turned over, his eyes opened a tiny sliver. "Freddie, can you hear me?" her voice was rushed, it sounded weird. He tried to ask what was wrong, and why he was numb, but the words wouldn't form in his mouth.

"Unghh."

"It's gonna be alright. You're ok." she was terrified.

He could hear Carly, very faintly, far away sounding. She was saying something "My friend…a truck…help."

What was going on? He couldn't move. He was vaguely aware of Sam hunched over him, whispering. It was getting harder to think.

He blacked out even before he heard the ambulance sirens wailing.

She rode with him to the hospital. They said she wasn't allowed, but she wasn't one to take no for an answer. All she needed to do was scream, and they let her go. It was obvious _they'd _be the ones needing an ambulance if they didn't. She held his hand the whole way, whispering a frantic prayer to a God she wasn't sure was listening.

_God? Uh, hi. Sam, Sam Puckett. Although I guess You know that, I'm sure I'm on some list or something. But that's not why I need to talk to You. Listen, my friend here, he really needs Your help. He was hit by a taco truck, and I'm really scared. I know I say I hate him, and I kinda do, but not really, You know? I know hate isn't big with You, and I'm sorry, but it's how I feel. And isn't lying a bigger thing than hate? Whatever, that's not the point. I don't want to lose him. Please. Just…keep him alive. I'll be nicer to him, I swear. Just….don't make him die. Please. Save him. Please. Save him._

She kept repeating it to herself on the way to the hospital. She would never admit it, but she had tears running down her cheeks. She knew it, and she didn't really care at that moment.

He woke up in a hospital bed; his left leg and right arm were in casts. Red and blue, respectively. He tried to remember what happened, but it was all fuzzy. Something about an iCarly dare, and Sam fell in the street. A truck almost hit her, but he pushed her out of the way. He remembered dropping his camera to save her, not caring that it cost a thousand dollars to replace if it broke, or that it had taken him forever to save up for. Sam was going to be hit, he had to save her. He remembered someone holding his hand, he thought it might be Sam (but doesn't she hate him?) Wait no, it _was _her. She had been whispering something (a wish for him to die? [Or maybe a prayer he didn't?] No, she didn't hate him _that _much.) he just didn't know what.

After that, nothing.

The door opened, and his mother walked in, pale as her nurse's hat. "Freddie! You're awake! Thank God!" she started to hug him, but pulled back at his wince of pain.

"Wha hapnd?" his voice was groggy, slow.

"You were almost killed." she fluffed his pillows carefully, not wanting to hurt him again. "You almost traded your life for the Devil Girl's." she said it matter-of-factly, not caring that Sam was one of his friends (kind of.). She sat gingerly on the edge of his bed and put a hand to his face. "You're too noble for your own good." She hated that he had almost died, but she loved what a gentlemen he had turned out to be. Besides, there was no chance Samantha would have that hero-worship she feared.

The door opened again, and Carly, Spencer, and Sam entered, looking terrified. "F-Freddie?" Carly started nervously. "How are you doing?"

"Broken…DAMAGED!"His mother quickly answered for him. "But I see you both look fine. Isn't that nice?" her tone said she didn't quite think it was.

"Mom, stop. It's neither one of their faults." his voice was better. Coherent, at least.

"Yes it is! It's _their _little web show that-"

"Mom! It's mine too. Could you just… give us a minute?" This was so embarrassing. Why did she always do this to him?

She pursed her lips. "I suppose. I do have to get back to that surgery." They all stared. "What? My baby boy almost died!"

"So the solution is to let someone else die instead?" Sam said sarcastically, crossing her arms.

"Yes. I choose you!" she stepped toward Sam threateningly.

"Mom!" She stopped, turned around. "Just leave her alone. It's not her fault. Go back to your surgery."

"Fine." she sniffed, and left, quietly closing the door behind her.

"How are you doing?" Carly repeated, a little less nervous.

"I'm a little groggy, and apparently I'm wearing casts, but other than that…"He trailed off, trying to make light of the situation. "What happened, anyway?"

"You don't remember?" Sam asked, dumbfounded.

"Not really." He answered. "You guys can sit down, you know." he gestured to the two chairs and the edge of the bed. They were all just standing by the door, looking worried. "I'm not dying." They laughed nervously. Spencer sat in the nearest chair to the door, to Freddie's right. Carly took the chair on the left, leaving Sam to sit next to his uninjured foot. She stared at the red cast covering his foot, an unseen expression on her face. Carly was saying something about how he was a hero for saving her.

"I'm not a hero."

"Yeah you are." Sam cut in, still staring at the cast.

"See, even _Sam _thinks…"

"I don't care what Sam thinks about this. I'm _not _a hero." he wasn't. He just did what anyone would do. He saw someone he cared about to be killed, so he…saved her. Fine, that _did _sound suspiciously hero-like, but so what? That didn't make him a hero.

An awkward silence hung around them.

"I'm gonna go…"Spencer slowly stood up and made his way to door. "get some…" he began to close the door, still looking for an excuse. "umm…fruit! Yeah, that's why I'm leaving. Not because this has gotten totally awkward." he closed the door quickly, and they could hear his footsteps running down the hall to get away from the tension.

No one said anything. What was there to say?

Sam didn't move, or opt for the now open chair. She just sat and stared, now at the arm cast.

"Freddie..." Carly broke the silence quietly.

"If you're gonna say I'm a hero, don't bother. I'm not buying it."

"But you _are!" _She wasn't going to give up, was she?

"No I'm…"

"You saved my life." Sam suddenly spoke up. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead right now." her voice was thick.

"No, _you'd _be the one..."

"No. I've run it through my mind a thousand times. The way I was standing…I would've been killed. You're only in casts" she traced the white edge by his toes "because of where you were hit."

"Sam…don't do this."

"I'm gonna go…" Carly began the same awkward exit as her brother "see what's taking Spencer so long…"only her head remained in the doorway "…with the…you know…fruit." now _she _closed the door, and it was _her _footsteps heard running down the hall, along with a muffled "Spencer?"

She acted as though Carly hadn't left and interrupted. "Don't do what?"

"Act like I'm some big shot because I did the right thing." he didn't sugarcoat it.

"I'm not saying you're a big shot. Like I would ever do that." she laughed weakly, trying to break the tension, trying to return some normalcy to the situation.

"Sam…" his voice trailed off, pleading.

She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. "Thank you." It was so hard. Between her promise to God, and the way she was feeling…it was all just so messed up.

He was quiet for a moment. It wasn't easy to respond to Sam saying 'thank you'. The wrong thing could get him killed…No, bad choice of words. "No problem." he ended up with after a moment.

"Yes it is. You're in casts. Because of me." he didn't know what to say. "Why'd you do it, anyway? Why'd you risk your life to save someone you hate?"

Still, he didn't know what answer she wanted. Did she want the truth, or the hero 'it was the right thing'? She was still staring at his arm, and still had her hand on his foot. He decided to go with the truth.

"Because we both know I don't hate you." she didn't react, except he thought she was blinking faster. "And you don't hate me. We _are _friends, even if you don't want to admit it. And that's why I did it. Because I wouldn't be able to stand it if you weren't in my life. Even if you do make it miserable."

She said nothing, but finally met his eyes. And though he didn't believe it, he saw fear, and through a crack in the walls she put up, a tiny glimmer of what he thought might have been love.

But not the kind that said she wanted to kiss him, or date him or something, It was just the kind that said she didn't want to lose him either. They were too much a part of each other for that to happen.

Finally she spoke. "So, me making you miserable…you like that?"

"Well I wouldn't say _like _it, but…I guess I'm used to it. It just…wouldn't be the same, you know?"

"Yeah, I know…So," she kept saying that, she didn't know why "the nicest thing for me to do would be to keep berating you?"

He was quiet for a moment, considering what she said. God only knew what would happen if he said yes. But he knew it would just about… _kill her _if he said no.

"Yeah, I guess so."

The first smile crossed her face. "Good. Just 'cause you're a hero shouldn't mean I need to treat you different."

"For the last time, I'm _not"_

"Yeah, yeah. You're not a hero, I get it." She rolled her eyes. "Do you know where the cafeteria is in this joint?"

He tried not to laugh. Same old Sam. "I don't have a clue." he admitted, sliding is hand onto his stomach. It was so hard to be comfortable.

"Eh, whatever, I'll find it myself. Mama can follow her nose, and her sixth sense." she stood up, but didn't move toward the door. She was still for a moment, deliberating something. He didn't say anything, he didn't think he should.

Another moment passed. She was going to do something; it was killing him not knowing.

Carefully, she placed her left hand on his. "Thanks again." she squeezed his hand once, and cleared her throat, pulling away from him.

He watched her as she walked out, leaving the door open just a crack.

She was confusing, that was for sure. He would never know quite what was between them. Because there _was _something, the problem was pinpointing just what that _thing _was. He tried to remember what she had been saying as she rode in the ambulance. The memory took him by surprise. That's right. She rode in the ambulance with him. But, isn't it only supposed to be family? He knew that; his mom _was _a nurse, after all. Only one member of direct family, and ambulance personnel. Then how did she get in? Huh. He'd have to ask her later. It wasn't important right now. What had she been saying? A prayer? No, she never prayed. He wasn't sure she believed in God. Then what could it have been? The more he thought about it, he was almost sure it was a prayer.

But why- would she-

His thoughts were cut off by Sam poking her head back in the room.

"By the way. You _are."_

"Sam!"

But she had disappeared.

He wasn't a hero. At least not to himself.

But Carly seemed to think so. Although, that wasn't too surprising. She thought practically all guys were heroes. She'd fall for a guy who would pay for a smoothie when she was out. 'My hero.' she'd say flirtatiously to whatever guy it was this week. Huh, come to think of it, why hadn't _he _ever tried that? It was almost sure-fire… But something held him back. No, this wasn't important. He tried to get his mind to focus on the whole hero thing.

Sam seemed to think so too. Which was weird. Why was she pushing it so hard? It made no sense. _Sam thinks I'm a hero. _The words sounded funny, even in his mind.

The door opened again, and a nurse with long wheat blond hair walked in. "Hey there." she said, checking a machine sitting next to his bed. "How ya' feeling?"

"I'm…" the word escaped him. He had lost all of his energy now that his friends had gone. He felt so drained.

"I see." The nurse laughed. "Any pain?" she was already fishing pills off of her cart. Wait, when had she gotten a cart?

He tried to nod. At the little bit of movement, his head exploded.

"Can you swallow these?"

"uh-huh." he didn't even open his mouth, although he would have to."

"Here" she handed him tiny white pills and a cup of liquid. "Take these, you'll feel better."

He did as he was told, careful not to choke. He felt the nurse take the cup from him as he stared toward the left side of the room. His mind was back on Sam. What else had happened? Had she really prayed for him? Had she really held his hand as he passed out? Did she…maybe care more than she let on? He wished he could ask her. Come to think of it, where was she?

He glanced around the room. Where had everyone gone? He tried to remember. He couldn't remember Carly or Spence leaving. But they must have. What about Sam?

Oh, that's right, she went to the cafeteria, remember? And before she left she thanked him, and told him he was a hero. _Sam thinks I'ma hero. _The words ran through his mind again, and they were still weird. He smiled as he stared off into space, and began to drift off. The last thing he consciously thought before he fell asleep was _I'm her hero._

And yeah, he kinda was.


	2. Chapter 2

A week. He'd been back in school for a week. The whole hero business had spread like wildfire, a fact he was not a fan of. He'd told both of the girls to knock it off, he wasn't a hero, and they had finally stopped _saying _it. But that hadn't stopped the rest of the school. Everywhere he went girls stared at him and asked if they could sign his casts. He always said thanks, but no thanks. He was good with leaving them blank. He didn't want the signatures of strangers surrounding him, especially if they were only there because they thought he was some kind of hero.

It was hard for him to get around school. He wasn't very fast on his crutches, especially considering one of his arms was broken. Carly mostly helped him around, carrying a couple of his books that he couldn't fit in his backpack. He had been raised a gentlemen, so he felt bad. He should be the one carrying _her _books. She was happy to do it, she said, always with a smile. Gibby helped when Carly couldn't, and that was easier for him. Gibby too, was always happy to help. It felt weird, having his friends waiting on him all the time. Well, except for Sam. She'd helped once, that first day back. It had been awkward, since he had no idea if he'd dreamed that moment in the hospital. It was a mistake, bringing it up. She stopped halfway to their class when he asked.

"Sam, something's been bothering me."

"I'm not scratching your back. That's what Gibbies are for." she sounded disgusted.

"No, I meant… when I was in the hospital. There was a …discussion we had. About not hating each other and you thanked me, and told me I was a hero. Did…did I dream that….or what?"

She stopped cold at the word 'discussion'." I don't know what you're talking about, Fredifer."

"Are you sure? Because I thought…"

"You thought wrong." she snapped coldly, cutting him off. A girl with long black hair happened to walk by "Yo, chick. C'mere."

The girl came, because this was Sam Puckett, and nobody disobeys her. "Yeah?"

Sam shoved Freddie's books into the girl's hands, hard. "Here. Take him to room 116. ." and she stomped off in the opposite direction, even though they shared the next class.

Freddie said nothing; he knew there was no use.

"Oh my God!" the girl clutched his books to her chest. "You're Freddie, from iCarly. You're like, a hero!"

Freddie sighed and began to hobble forward, his thoughts only on Sam.

"Freddie. Freddie! _Freddie!" _Someone was shaking him. Carly.

"Huh?"

"You need to stop drifting off. You're gonna end up limping into a garbage can, and then you'll need more casts." she giggled at him, seeming to think her joke was funny.

"Yeah, sorry. It's just…" he considered asking her about Sam, why she was so distant, but decided against it. Carly would just tell Sam, and get her angrier. "…pain medication." he lied.

"Oh…" she paused for a moment. "Are you in a lot of pain?" her voice was almost…hopeful. Man was she a sucker for a humble hero. So why didn't he take advantage, and lie again?"

"Nah," Ok, that was true "My mom's making me take them. You know, just in case." And that wasn't.

"Oh." she said again. "Well alright then." she glanced down at her watch. "Shoot, bells about to ring. My class…" she gestured in the opposite direction of his.

"It's fine. I can make it from here."

"Sorry."

"Yeah." he took his books carefully, tucking them between his good arm and the crutch. He hobbled on to his class, one of the few he shared with Sam. History. _Irony at its finest. _

He took his seat next to her, as usual. She stared straight ahead, avoiding him.

"Hey, Sam."

She nodded, that's all he got these days.

No, he was tired of that.

"Sam, we need to talk." he said quietly as the bell rang.

"Nothing to talk about."

"I know I wasn't dreaming."

She said nothing. She simply stared forward. She didn't even bother pretending to take notes.

"Sam…"

Angrily, she stood up, shoving the desk away.

"Samantha!" shrieked from the front of the class. "Sit back down or face detention!"

"Then I guess I'll see you later." and she walked out. Freddie stared after her, confused as ever.

"Mr. Benson, is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

"Uh, not really." a few kids laughed, and the glare on ' face grew angrier.

"Excuse me?" she seemed shocked to hear him talk back, even the little bit he did.

"May I go to the nurse? I uh…have pain medication I need." he gestured to his broken arm.

"Very well." she allowed, knowing she couldn't keep him from the nurse. "Do you need help…?"

"No, I'll be back." and he hobbled out, no intention of seeing the nurse.

He made his way to his locker, where he'd been keeping his PearPad since he wasn't able to defend his backpack. He quickly typed in the Pear web address, tapping 'locate phone'. He knew Sam's password, he could easily find her, no matter where she was. As the device began to search, he heard a voice behind him.

"What'cha doing, nerd-boy?" he turned, and there she was, hands on hips, looking confident.

"Nerd-boy? What's got you so off your game?"

"Been a little distracted, Fredinstein. Oh look, I'm back." and she smiled evilly. She walked toward him, stopping at the locker next his and leaning against it on her right shoulder. "You wanted to talk so bad. Fine. Talk."

He took a deep breath and closed his locker door. "Was I dreaming?"

Her smile faltered. This wasn't going the way she thought. He was supposed to back down. "Next question."

"No. Just tell me if I dreamt that whole thing or not."

She swallowed hard. "No. It happened."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, oh."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she was losing it, fast.

"Just that I'm thinking."

She was quiet, for once in her life.

He was trying to process knowing for sure she thanked him and told him was a hero and that they didn't hate each other: It was a lot.

But she was impatient.

"What are you thinking?" she broke into his mind.

Now it was his turn to be quiet again.

After a moment, he spoke. "You thanked me."

"So?"

"You said you don't hate me."

"No I didn't." she said quickly.

"Fine, I said you don't and you didn't deny it."

"So?"

"You said I was a hero."

"So?"

"So you're Sam. You don't do that." he was still completely confused. This was supposed to help him. Why wasn't it?

She said nothing.

"Do you really think that?" he needed to know.

"I don't know." she said after a moment. "Maybe." She looked down at the pink tile floor. "You did save my life."

"I only did what-" he began the familiar argument.

"No, you did more. You prevented what a lot of people would have called a happy accident."

"Nobody would think that!"

"Yeah they would." she was resigned to it. "I know that. It doesn't bother me. I don't care what anybody else thinks, or says they think. The only thing that matters is that _I _know. And I know that's what people think of me, especially in this school."

He tried to look into her eyes, but they were cast down. "You don't care what anybody thinks?"

"Why should I?" she whispered, voice thick. She hated emotional confrontations.

"Then why are you pushing me to think I'm a hero? If it's only important that _you _know, why are you so adamant that I believe it too?"

Her head rose in anger, and he hoped she would blurt something out in frustration.

But she didn't.

She did, however, say, in a very calm, restricted voice, "I-I don't know."

"Sam…" he didn't know what he wanted to say. "There's gotta be a reason. You know it the same way I do."

"If you know so much, why haven't you figured it out yet?" her blue eyes matched her tone, hot, boiling.

"Because…"he paused, choosing his words carefully. "You're a complicated person. I have no idea what could possibly be going through your mind, because even though we've known each other forever, and I pretty much know you better than anyone else in my life, I never know what you're going to do. Everything is a surprise to me. _That's _why."

Sam turned, pressed her back against the lockers. Things had changed so fast, just a week. She hated him one minute, the next he was saving her life and she was thinking maybe she didn't hate him, but rather, that feeling in her stomach was denial.

"I want you to know you're a hero because you _are _one, even if you don't think so."

"I don't _feel _like a hero."He leaned back too, and they both stared down the hall, wondering what to say.

She was the first to break the silence. "Well you are one. To me."

The tension changed, from one of anger and sadness, to one of waiting. They knew what was coming. They knew from the moment they both began to turn toward each other. In every second that they leaned closer and closer, the tension built around them, melting all away the second their lips touched. Their eyes automatically closed, following pure instinct.

They had kissed before. The first kiss. For both of them. That had been different. Innocent, experimental. Done just 'to get it over with.' She had been wearing lip-gloss, cheery flavored. It was something Carly had started forcing her to do for iCarly. Apparently it was more professional. He had been drinking juice; she could taste it on his lips. They had both been nervous, scared. But also, at the same time, relieved. The waiting had been over; there would be no more embarrassment or lies if someone asked if they had ever been kissed. They could be done with hiding it

But this time? This time was different. There was no reason for it, except…it had been a long time coming. They could see it now. Of course. Sam and Freddie. In this moment, they ceased to exist. They were now one. That underlying chemistry had shown itself to both of them, in almost the same moment. She saw it first, although in fairness, she had been the one to deny it for two weeks. Longer, if she was being honest. Overtime, the hate had disappeared, day by day, until it was no longer there, and instead was replaced by a friendship that grew slowly to what she was feeling now. To him the friendship had been there all along, it was just crowded by hate, that, like it did with her, melted away as they grew closer.

They pulled away from one another. She was deathly silent, and a blush was creeping up his neck.

There was one similarity to their first kiss. The awkwardness that followed. She turned so that her back was once again against the lockers.

"That-that was…" he stuttered, desperate to fill the silence.

"Nice?" she repeated her words from their first kiss. He laughed, knowing exactly what she was referencing.

"Yeah. Nice." he paused, a smile on his face. "Good work." he quoted her with another laugh.

"You too." She slid closer to him, but was careful to keep a little distance. "Are we crazy?"

"Well, I don't know about me, but _you've _always been a little psychotic."

She tried not to chuckle, but failed. "You know what I mean."

"Maybe." this time he slid closer, touching his shoulder to hers and leaning with little weight on her. "But who says crazy isn't a good thing?"

She looked up at him, his words taking her by surprise. Before she could start to process what he could mean, the bell rang, and the hallway swarmed with students. Sam slid away from him quickly, almost embarrassed by their close proximity. She didn't need more rumors. "So." she wanted this conversation to be over, at least for now. They could talk another time. "How'd you get out of class, anyway?"

He understood what she was doing. H began to limp away, back toward their class. She followed, waiting for his answer. "I told her I needed to go to the nurse. Pain meds."

"Are you in pain?"

He paused. "Not anymore." she smiled, and tried to hide it. "Hey, you mind helping me with my stuff? Besides, you left yours when you walked out."

"Uh, yeah. No problem." They walked the rest of the way in silence, both wondering where this would go.

They happened to show up while was gone, presumably to go find Mr. Howard. She helped him load his backpack and took his books, and they left together, no longer in silence.

"When are you gonna heal so you don't have to hobble around, huh?"

"No idea. My mom won't tell me. She's afraid I'll get my hopes up, then be disappointed if it's not exactly right. Then, according to her logic, I might kill her in anger."

"Dude, your _mom's _the one who's psychotic. She's so paranoid."

"No, not really. I mean, I wouldn't do it over an extra week of being in casts, but..." he trailed off with a laugh, and she laughed too.

Neither one of them really knew what would happen. But it didn't matter. They'd figure it out in time.


End file.
